Home Is Where the Heart Is working title
by angelofnight
Summary: Chapter 9 up! Sorry for the delay! Dorothy spends her day with Vincent. She never would have imagined the Oz she knows now.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well ,,, obviously I do not own any of the characters, or at least most of them. I'm borrowing them for entertainment reasons only. Now, I have tried, tried, and tried to so a Dorothy/Scarecrow fic for YEARS, since I was 9 years old. So ... here's yet another attempt. I deeply apologize to any other Dorothy/Scarecrow fan writers who may have followed even a vaguely similar line before for any of the circumstances in my stories. Some of you have done much better at this than me. I am making no attempt to copy other authors.

Also, I have no real memory of the books except that Dorothy was meant to be a blonde. The characters are borrowed much from the MGM film version, and their personalities are pretty much mine.

Part One: I've Been Watching You

The palace was cool in the late winter evening, where it stood overlooking the entire Emerald City around it. The Scarecrow of Oz had been ruler for 12 years now, with the assistance of his friends the Tin Woodman and Cowardly Lion. As the years had passed, several changes had taken place in their own personal lives. They had taken on human names to humanize themselves more, so they could be known by those names rather than by the forms they sometimes felt trapped in. The Tin Woodman had taken on the name that had once been his, long ago, before he'd become the Tin Woodman - Nick Chopper. The Cowardly Lion, for lack of better ideas, had adopted the name Vincent Leonhart. And the Scarecrow, also for lack of any better ideas, now was referred to by the simple name Robert Crow – by those who even bothered to use his name when they didn't scrape and bow around him as though he were some truly great sovereign.

None had forgotten Dorothy Gale once she had been gone from their lives. At least once a day, in their conversations together, her memory would somehow be brought up. Even in the middle of some useless political meetings, they could often meet eyes across the table, and know that Dorothy was in their thoughts. It had become unbearable after only 3 years, to not know whether she had made it home to Kansas safely. Whether or not she was alive and well and happy now that she was supposedly home. In the end, they had sought out Glinda's assistance to keep tabs on their good friend, who was solely responsible for the way their lives had turned out.

Glinda had given the Scarecrow a painting, created by her magic and taken by his own memories of what she looked like in his eyes. Life sized, the picture portrayed Dorothy as she had been that last day in Oz, her pretty little face staring up at her three friends with wide blue eyes,. Her curly golden hair had fallen loose over her shoulders since a braid or pigtails had been far too much of a hassle to bother with that day. She had been so excited about going home. She held that little Scottish Terrier, Toto, in her vaguely plump little arms, clutching him to her chest as though her very life depended on it. The blue dress she wore went down past her knees, revealing her white stockings on her calves, and the ruby slippers clicking together on her feet. Beyond her, there was nothing but a mixture of colors ... as the Scarecrow had lost all memory of anything around them the last time he saw Dorothy's face. All he remembered was her.

The threesome had been told to bring the painting home, and hang it where all could view it at their leisure. All they had to do was ask to see Dorothy, and the image would swirl and vanish, the colors constantly moving and changing until it rearranged itself into a newer picture, a newer rendering of Dorothy Gale as she grew up. The first time they had done this together, they had seen Dorothy and her Aunt Em standing at the foot of a freshly covered grave, both with tear stained cheeks. Toto had been laying at Dorothy's feet with a similarly sad expression.

Thus time had gone on. They had witnessed through portraits the next years of Dorothy Gale's life in Kansas. They saw her grow into womanhood as she took on more of the chores on her Aunt's farm, both in the house and in the fields. They saw her standing sometimes near a schoolhouse with friends, sometimes even boys. It was apparent by how often she could sometimes be seen with the same boy in different places that he was meant to be her Beau. Yet ... eventually that boy disappeared from the paintings altogether... and only two years earlier, so had Dorothy's Aunt Em. The orphan child was now without a guardian... but no, she was not a young girl anymore. She was a woman.

It had amazed all three the day they stood back from the portrait and stared at a painting of Dorothy Gale as she was 12 years after she left. None of them had truly realized right away that she was actually growing into a woman. Yet it was undeniable. The portrait showed her trying in vain to run her Aunt's farm with the few farm hands who had remained loyal to her after their true employers had passed on. She was standing over a stove, with the stage hands at her table in the background eating her hearty breakfast. Her golden hair fell down like silk to the small of her back and over her shoulders, covering the already apron-blocked dress of dusty rose that she wore. This dress was more than any child would be allowed to ever wear. It showed off curves that only a woman could have. It was not something they concentrated on ... but it was undeniable.

"She's a woman now." Vincent - the once Cowardly Lion - said in a low, hushed voice. "Do you think she's forgotten us? Do you think she's happy with them?"

Robert Crow - once the Scarecrow - stepped closer to the portrait again to stare long and hard at the face of the woman who had once been Dorothy Gale the child. She was supposed to be laughing as she stirred a pot of something on her stove ... but her eyes were not laughing or smiling. They were haunted eyes. He turned towards Nick Chopper and asked with his eyes, if his friend saw the same thing he did.

"No." Nick admitted softly. "I don't think that she is at all..."

Robert turned back to the portrait just as the colors swirled once more, blurring and changing until it was once again the portrait Glinda had once given them. The portrait of the little girl, Dorothy Gale.

"I think she needs our help." He decided in a soft whisper. "But we need to find out before we go ... charging into her life again. We can't destroy what her life has become if it's happier than what we think."

Nick simply nodded, as did Vincent.

"Then ... we ask Glinda to help us find a way."


	2. Life Fell Apart

N/A: Well ... that was chapter one. I know it was really bad but I have to get into the swing of things again. It's been years since I've written Oz characters. And back then it must've been worse because I wasn't even in High school yet! LOL So anyways ... here is the introduction of what Dorothy's life has been like since Oz.

Part Two: Life Fell Apart

As Dorothy stood over her stove, listening to the farm hands who had been her friends almost her entire life share jokes and stories, she contemplated inwardly what the past 12 years had given her since returning home from Oz.

Since leaving Oz, her life had become almost unbearable. From the moment she woke up in her bed in Kansas, in a home badly damaged by the tornado, her life was forever altered. Her stories about a far away land filled with Witches - both good and bad - and Scarecrow's that walked and talked even without brains puzzled her Aunt and Uncle. They told her gently time and time again that she had to have been dreaming, although they admitted much of it sounded very pleasant and exciting. The farm hands who chose to listen listened to her with smiles, thinking her stories were simply childish fancy.

But the reactions of her school mates and teachers, then the entire county in which she lived, were far, far different. Her classmates began to mock and shun her, calling her crazy, and a little lair who made up great big stories. Teachers had meetings with her guardians to express their concern for Dorothy's earnest conviction that the place she called Oz had been real, and that she'd really been there. Soon enough, because of small-town gossip, even adults were turning away from Dorothy and her Aunt or Uncle whenever they were seen. In church, no one shook their hands or greeted them except for the pastor.

Her Uncle already had one mortgage on the farm from when he and his wife had first married. The tornado had only damaged the property more, and they had needed to take out a second mortgage to pay for the repairs that had to be done so they could live in remotely comfortable conditions. Yet when Dorothy began to talk incessantly about Oz, and defended herself stubbornly whenever others told her to be quiet or to stop making up stories, people stopped doing business with her Uncle Henry. They didn't want to arrive on a farm where they would have to listen to great big stories from a girl no bigger than a bed bug.

It had resulted in her Uncle commanding her to see a doctor, who would set her straight about what Oz really was. For three years she had to visit an old man who never really spoke to her, except to ask questions about her favorite subject as though he were asking about her symptoms to a flu. She was so stubborn about her conviction that Oz was real, that eventually the Doctor had adviced her guardians to commit her to his hospital, where he could treat her with medications and therapies otherwise unavailable. Yet her family did not have the money for such, and she left the doctor's treatment shortly afterwards.

By the time she was fifteen, Dorothy had finally given up speaking about Oz to anyone, although it did not save her from the mockery of the school mates she continued to sit with in the single roomed school of her town. Adults still avoided her, or her Uncle's farm. And the worry it caused her Uncle made him sick. So sick that eventually, he simply died of what would have seemed nothing more than a severe cough.

If business had been bad before, it certainly got worse once her Aunt was the one who ran the farm. It was bad enough doing business with a man who had a crazy niece. Yet it was nearly insufferable to do business with a woman. Three years after his death, during which Toto had passed away from old age during the night as he slept on the foot of Dorothy's bed, her Aunt Em passed away as well. Business went from insufferable to abominable. Who wanted to do business with the actual woman who was considered crazy by the whole county?

Beyond financially burdening, her ruined reputation had hurt a lot more than her family's purse. At one time, she'd made acquaintances with a young businessmen who had come into the town with his aging mother to build a small hotel in the tiny community, so that maybe he could expand the business of everyone who lived there - including his own which was the hotel itself. They had found each other entertaining and charming, but rumors about her past had crowded into their quiet, and short lived courtship. Even an outsider had assented that it would be difficult to gain much business if he was married to a woman considered mentally unstable.

So now ... here she was ... twenty-two years old, and running a farm almost completely on her own. Ever since her Aunt's death, she'd rarely had enough money to pay for her three farmhands to work for her, but they had stayed on out of devotion and affection for her. They probably thought she was crazy like the rest of the town, but they didn't hold it against her. They were the only family that she had left ... and even they would have to be moving on with their own lives soon enough. They would have no choice. The bank was going to be forclosing on the farm ... and within the year Dorothy Gale would have no home, no friends, and no chance of getting to any place where she could hope to make her own living.

Hick - the youngest farm hand at her breakfast table - said her name, and she glanced sharply over her shoulder. He repeated a question he'd asked her about going into town, and then teased her for having her head in the clouds. She laughed softly, and pasted on a fake smile while she glanced at him, then went back to her porridge before realizing it was burning. Dismayed she took it off of the stove and walked outside to dump it out.

_My life has been completely ruined ... and all because I had a stupid, fanciful, vivid dream!_


	3. Chapter 3 Contact

A/N: Yay! My first review!! Thank you darling! I have missed posting stuff and getting reviews. It's like a drug sometimes, isn't it? Well anyhow ... I'm not exactly sure how to play out this next chapter so ... let's see what happens. This is an experimental chapter. It might stink too much to keep it up and I might replace it.

Part Three: Contact

"So ... you wish to bring Dorothy back to Oz after all she went through to try and return to Kansas?" Glinda's voice was tranquil and serene as she looked down at the three visitors form the divan in her private salon. The woman had aged with the twelve years that had passed, although she still appeared stunningly beautiful. Her deep green eyes peered out from a fringe of thick eyelashes, set off by the lilac covered gown she wore, that sparkled in the sunlight pouring in through the cathedral like windows.

"Lady Glinda," Robert said with reverence, bowing quickly although it had become unnecessary some years before - considering he was the decreed ruler, and she subsequently his inferior. "We wish only to see if she will be _willing_ to return to Oz. None of us wish to force her away from her home if she is happy there."

Lady Glinda looked over him quietly, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as though she knew something that he did not. Then her gaze scanned over Nicholas and Vincent as well, taking a long time to peruse the situation, and contemplate how to respond.

"Young Dorothy Gale has not had an easy twelve years." she told them quietly. "Ever since you came to me seeking help in watching over her, I have done a little bit more than simply give you that view into her world. I, myself, have what is most simply seen as my own type of crystal ball."

The three friends glanced at each other with mild shock. Why would the woman not have let them know this beforehand? Maybe they would know how Dorothy's life had been long before this, if she had. Yet ... they all realized at the same time that she probably had not wanted them to leap at any opportune reason to communicate with her again.

"Yes." she agreed softly to their unspoken suspicions. "Dorothy had her own life to live in Kansas. Until recently, in spite of her own troubles, she at least has had a home and family. Yet my crystal ball has allowed me to hear things as well as see them. You see ... I think there is a chance that Dorothy has forgotten Oz, or at least pretended to. I see nothing wrong with inviting and returning her to us ... but it would be very difficult indeed to contact her without disturbing her life unless ..."

Her sudden silence made them nervous. Vincent shifted nervously from one foot to the other, and Nicholas flexed his knees noisily as they needed to be oiled again. Robert merely stared steadily at Glinda, waiting with silent impatience for her to continue.

" I think the only way to make contact with Dorothy again is through a dream." Glinda finally stated. "Anything more may completely take her off guard, even frighten her. We would not want to do that - would we?"

"No, ma'am." Robert said quickly. "We would hate it if we scared her."

"Then you all agree that a dream would be best, until she decides?"

The three men looked at each other, exchanging glances and silent words of understanding.

"Yes." Nicholas finally ventured for all of them. "We agree. But who? All of us?"

Glinda searched the three faces of the men before her.

"No." She decided with finality, one finely manicured finger motioning towards Robert. "You."

It had been a long and uneasy week since the day she had burned the porridge. Almost every day, they all gave up on the farm work by mid-afternoon, gathering together in the front parlor of the old house in uneasy companionship. Things were going to be drawing to a close, and Dorothy could not bare it. Every day she made the most exquisite feasts that she could for their meals, so that these last weeks before the bank came to evict them would be at least in one way or another memorable.

Now, she lay in the bed that had once belonged to her Aunt and Uncle, beneath nearly every single blanket available to the house. Sleep did not come easy to her anymore. Dreams were far and in between, and rarely were they any help to her mind set. Mostly she had the worst of nightmares. It made her afraid to sleep. Dorothy Gale, the dreamer, a young woman and no longer a child, afraid to go to sleep!

"I hate it here." She whispered vehemently to the darkness before she turned onto her side, cocooning herself in the blankets so that not an inch of her body or hair was visible. "Hate it! Hate it! Hate it!"

It would be midnight before she fell asleep, with tear stains on her slender cheeks.

"Dorothy?"

For the first time in months, she was having a dream that did not alarm her. So far, nothing was visible, but she knew she was dreaming. So often she knew that she was dreaming while it was happening. Yet there was no doubt that she was dreaming when the voice that spoke her name had not been heard by her in twelve years. She walked forward through the darkness, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Dorothy, can you hear me?"

"Yes." she whispered. "Yes ... I hear you." She stopped abruptly, alarmed a little. Why was this voice coming to her now? Why had she been unable to dream again of this voice when she had so longed for it during the most trying times of her young adolescence.

"You remember me?"

Slowly, light like the dawn came creeping into her dream, and in front of her stood the lopsided figure of the Scarecrow. The friend of Oz whom she had missed most - as she had whispered to him she would. His large blue eyes stared at her with intensity, and he was beaming with happiness. He strode towards her on his feet, which appeared deflated due to perhaps a lack of straw. Yet he seemed different than she remembered him. He was ... handsome in some way. Perhaps it was simply something she noticed now that she was no longer a child. Yet, it did seem silly to think of a scarecrow as a handsome figure.

"Yes, Scarecrow ... I remember you." When he was within arms reach, she took a final step forward and put her arms around his waist, letting her head rest on his shoulder as tears filled her eyes. "Where have you been all this time? I have missed you, all of you, so much! I've wanted to have this dream for so long!"

There was a long silence. He had not held her in return at first, standing awkward and stiff in her embrace. Then, his white gloved hands settled over her, one on her back where his fingers stroked tenderly, the other combing lightly through her golden hair. She wasn't little anymore. Twelve years ago she'd barely come up to where his sternum would have been if he'd been a real man. Now, she had to bend somewhat to make her head rest on his shoulder.

"This ... is not exactly a dream, Dorothy." he whispered softly. "We've kept our eye on you all this time. Glinda gave us a portrait that could show us a new portrait of where you were in your life whenever we asked it to. But, you looked so sad in the last one we saw. We needed to know that you were all right. She let me talk to you in this way."

"But you were always a dream..." she whispered painfully. "I never wanted to believe it ... but they all said it had to be that you were all just a dream. The doctor said I would realize it eventually."

"No, Dorothy." he said sternly, but with that same tenderness. "I understand they must have thought you had been dreaming, but you had not been. You really were with us, Dorothy. We really are alive and real. We miss you desperately ... This is not a normal dream."

"Why now?" She asked then, her tone somewhat demanding, even though she refused to let go of him. No one had held her like this since her Uncle Henry had died ... although this embrace felt different somehow. "Why not sooner?"

"Because we did not want to interrupt your life again." he answered simply. "We didn't know you were suffering, Dorothy! Do you think we'd have let you suffer if we had?? Of course we would not have! Dorothy ... "

He pushed her away gently by the shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him with her tear filled eyes. She felt herself trembling just the slightest bit at the intense emotion she saw in his button-big eyes.

"We want you to come back to us. Do you want to come back to Oz? Glinda says that now is the time to ask you."

"I –"

Her answer had not needed thought - but the sound of shouting woke her up, making her sit bolt upright in her bed in Kansas. Her eyes were huge and still ran with tears as she looked around the darkness in confusion. Then, after a moment, she realized that it wasn't completely dark at all. A orange light was coming in from one of the windows. The voices that were shouting were those of her farm hands.

The barn was on fire!

Robert sat up from the divan where he had been laying ever since Glinda had put him into the trance that would send him to visit with Dorothy. In Oz, it was the same, at mid-morning. The only difference between Kansas and Oz, was that time passed much slower. While it was night in Kansas, it was still early in the day in Oz. Still ... they seemed to share the same days and years, although how this magic was made possible no one quite knew.

Standing over him were Vincent and Nicholas, both staring at him eagerly as he jolted from his trance and looked around in confusion.

"Son of a witch!" he cursed under his breath, which took both of his friends off guard. When he realized Glinda was standing behind him, he apologized quickly and profusely. "I am sorry, my Lady Glinda. It's just ... it's ... I lost her before she could answer me!"

"But you talked to her?" Nicholas urged excitedly. "Did you get to ask her?"

"Yes." he said irritably. "But she woke up for some reason before she could answer me!"

Glinda smiled sympathetically, placing a hand on his shoulder in consolation.

"We will try again tomorrow." she said gently. "I know it will be horrible for you to wait, but unless she's dreaming ..."

Robert nodded slowly, staring down at his hands as he placed them dejectedly in his lap.

"She's so sad ... so sad ..."


	4. Chapter 4: Home No More

A/N: Well, I guess the rusty gears are loosening up a little. Took 3 drafts to get this chapter the way I wanted it. I apologize that there is no barrier between the author's notes and the chapters themselves. Ffnet is being a ick about not showing them even when I make them. Grins Well ... I'm making this up as I go so ... enjoy!!

Chapter Four: Home No More

Dorothy had never seen, or felt, such devastation on the Kansas farm before. When she had first run outside to help the others, struggling into an old ratty bathrobe to keep of the night chill, Hick, Hank, and Zach were trying to free as many animals as possible from their stalls, while the fire consumed that back tack room, and all the hay feed for the animals food. The fire was already shooting up the walls inside, and licking at the straw overhead in the lofts. There was little time to think, let alone do the work needed.

Dorothy immediately called for Zach to help her get the old buggy out of the barn so that they would at least still have a way to get into town. Yet in their struggle to do that, the fire continued to rage and devour the straw overhead, some of which was falling down from above, threatening their hair and clothes. By the time they had the buggy clear of any danger, Hick and Hunk came charging out of the barn with a panicked stallion in front of them. Within seconds, they heard the loud crack of support beams, and the entire frame fell in on itself.

Two cows, a young foal, and the breeding mare who had borne it were killed in that fire, because the fire had already blocked them off from help before anyone knew what was happening. There had been no time to even think about trying to stop the fire. There had only been a frantic effort to save as much from it as possible before the barn fell to the earth.

By dawn ... there was nothing left of it but smoldering remain, and the foursome worked to make sure all of the animals were secure in the pastures. It was mid-spring, so they were all grateful the animals had plenty of grass to graze on, considering that their actual food had all been destroyed in the flames. All they had to really worry about was food for the chickens and hogs. The chickens would be easy enough to deal with, although it would mean feeding them fresh bread crumbs, as well as stale crumbs from the day before. The hogs, however, would be costly to feed considering their number and voracious appetites. Dorothy would have to cook an entire breakfast of porridge just to make sure they were taken care of. She couldn't think of anything else to do for them. First, though, she needed to make sure the cows were milked so that their udders would not suffer.

She sat quietly on a stool taken from the kitchen, with a pale that had often times been used to clean the floors inside the house, in order to milk the cows out in the glaring morning sunlight. She had a long way to walk to bring the milk up to the house, but she was grateful for that. It meant she didn't have to see the devastation the fire had left in its wake.

There was no reason that the fire should have started in the first place. Two of the farm hands smoked their own rolled cigarettes when they could afford it, but it had always been a strict rule that they stay away from the barn, or any other area where they might accidentally spark off a flame. The kerosene lamps that were lit in the barn anytime someone was working in it were meticulously taken care of before the barn was left even for a few minutes. She thought that perhaps someone might have deliberately set the fire to her barn, but who could she suspect? The people in town who shunned and avoided her unless absolutely necessary because they thought she was crazy? The bank to whom she was deeply in debt and who would take back the farm any day now.

Well, let them take the farm! She had not forgotten the dream from the night before, and it had seemed far too real for her to ignore. Why would she have a dream of her dearest friend in Oz inviting her back to his home unless it was real? Especially after all of these long years that had gone by? It was time to finally get away from all of the painful memories this poor ramshackle place held for her.

There was only one thing to take care of ... and that was the discharging of her loyal, stubborn farm hands who had stood by her these few years since her guardians had died. She already knew they would not want to leave her alone, but she would ensure that once she'd packed her things she already had plans of where she would go, and what she would do. Yet those plans would remain her business, lest they think she had gone mad again. She would give them each a valuable animal to sell so that they would have plenty of money to move on until they found new positions elsewhere. There was the stallion they used for breeding, the bull for the same reason. There was the great hog that could be sold for it's more than 90 pounds of meat. Two fat cows could be used for the same purpose, and most of the others were still young and rich for milk production.

She would even give them a buggy to ride in and take their belongings along. She smiled a little at that. They really would think she had lost her mind! Yet it didn't matter. She had made up her mind. It was time to return to a place that was more like home now in her dreams than the place she had lived her entire life.

Oz was waiting for her. And it was time to dream again about that place, no matter what the consequences here.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Well ... that was the desicion making chapter. Time to push forward, don't you think? Thank you for the kind reviews.

Chapter Five: Come Home

While he waited for Dorothy to fall asleep again so that he might rejoin her in the realm of dreams. He had been staring at her day with Glinda and the rest of his friends through a pool of water held in a shallow bowl. Indeed, it was not unlike a cauldron, as Glinda had already told them. She had seen the sadness and devastation in her eyes when the barn burned down. He saw the tears on her face as she watched her friends leave the farm, never to return, although they kept looking back towards her with uncertainty.

She had gone to bed shortly afterwards, after washing herself briefly and apparently changing into a fresh dress that was long and deep navy blue. It did not quite fit right, so he supposed it must have been one of her Aunt's. It fit loosely around her shoulders and waist, although it gave a mere hint of the womanly figure beneath. Yet she had not been able to fall asleep with the sunlight pouring through her bedroom window and bathing her with warmth. Even burying herself under the covers completely had not seemed to help her find rest. So she tossed and turned, getting up several times for whatever reasons.

It was sunset before Glinda motioned for Robert to lay once again on the divan, using her powers silently to send him into another trance which would allow him to find Dorothy.

She was almost expecting him this time. When he walked into the realm of dreams, he had found her almost immediately. He had asked Glinda how he could see her in an actual setting rather than in a dim void, and she'd given him instruction to simply think of a place that would not overwhelm her. So ... as he approached, he made it so that they stood in a giant meadow of wildflowers, with a blue sky overhead, and a gentle sun peeking from behind fluffy white clouds. She was sitting up on a boulder with her legs tucked underneath and behind her, one hand holding her long skirt against her calf while the other supported her sitting form.

"You're here!" She said with undisguised relief and happiness as he came towards her. She sat straighter up and placed her feet solidly on the ground. "I wasn't sure this dream would be repeated."

Robert smiled softly, taking her hands and giving her a slight pull so that she could stand. It felt odd to him, holding her hands now that she was an adult. It had been just as strange and awkward to hold her the evening before, when she had cried in his embrace. How strange that he had felt so close to her twelve years before.. Yet even without being able to stand near her, to speak with her and comfort her or regale with her over the past years, his feelings had only grown. He knew, but refused to admit, that perhaps his feelings had also grown all the more tender. He did not want her to know that he felt so deeply, since he had no right to feel that way.

"I told you, Dorothy," he said quietly. "This is no dream. This is very real. Of course I came back. You did not have the chance to consider or respond to my ... to _our _... offer."

She smiled brightly.

"So ... Lion? Tin Man? They want me to come too?"

"Of course they do!" He exclaimed, chuckling. "Dorothy ... we have watched snippets of your life since you left - as I told you last night. We all miss you - quite desperately! We want you to come home Dorothy. And, Oz is your home. At least, it is now. As far as we're concerned ... it always has been."

She laughed gaily, throwing her arms around him again briefly, although this time he was prepared for it. When she pulled away, there was a slight blush to her face, but he assumed it was the excitement. Still, he took her shoulders quickly when he realized there was so much that she did not know. Particularly about their names.

"There are things I must tell you, first. Information you may need to know. And then ... then Glinda will use her magic to send another storm to bring you to us. It will be her magic, you understand. You'll be safely delivered to us. I promise you."

"Scarecrow, I would be happy to walk through flames to reach Oz again!" Dorothy exclaimed decidedly, joyfully. Again, she folded her fingers around his white gloved hands, listening as the straw rustled within. "Tell me everything. I ... I don't want to stand out too much. When I was a child, no one thought much of my behaviors and looks. But now ... now I could make a dire move, if all of you still rule the country."

"We do rule the country." he admitted gently. "As you might with us, if you were to wish to. They all remember you, Dorothy. The defeater of the Wicked Witches. The savior of the Munchkinlanders and the Winkies. You would be a princess in Oz."

She looked gleeful at the thought of this, but only in the way a young girl will. Many girls dreamed of being princesses and queens in their youths. Dreams of escaping their humdrum lives to be adored and admired by hundreds of loyal subjects. To be draped in silks, velvets, and jewels that made them sparkle like stars. To be beautiful in gowns even if they feel ugly any other way. It made him smile to see her feeling this way, even if only for a few seconds before the trepidation revealed itself as well.

"I have no talent for being a princess." she whispered.

"Oh, Dorothy..." He sighed softly, gently. "You are not required to be anything but what you wish to be. We ask you home to be with friends who love you. Not to rule over matters of state."

She smiled at him a little tremulously now.

"Let me tell you everything, and soon enough we will bring you home."

"But let me tell you everything."


	6. Overdue Reunion

A/N: Well ... that last chapter kind've stunk, didn't it? I'm going at all of this on a whim, and this next chapter took forever to try and get down! I had a good start going at one time and then it closed the program on me randomly without saving my work so I definately feel this is lacking. Reviews and suggestions greatly welcomed.

Chapter Six: Reunion

Since awakening from his second trance, Vincent and Nicholas had bombarded him with questions about Dorothy. Did she look different than how the portrait made her appear? What was her voice like? Was she willing to live in the palace? Had he told her about the national holiday named after her?

"I can't keep trying to answer all these questions." Robert sighed heavily. "Nicholas ... your squeak could slice a persons skull open. Didn't you bring any oil with you?"

"I'm sorry." Nicholas said icily, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I didn't expect to be here for three days. My oil can is in my suite - at the palace!"

"You may want to think about having my servants tend to you." Glinda said with a teasing smile, looking up from a book of spells she was studying in the corner, where all her volumes on magic were kept. "Such sounds might offend young Dorothy's ears."

Vincent and Robert laughed in good humor at the jibing that they were giving his friend. Robert shrugged at Nicholas simply, signifying that he was indeed only teasing him, and not seriously angry at him. Yet Nicholas was merely nodding at Glinda as though she had been serious, and he turned to walk out of the salon to do just as she suggested. Besides, he could tell Robert needed a break from the constant questions.

"How long, my lady?" Robert asked somewhat impatiently after a bit, turning to look at Glinda for a moment.

"Patience, Sire." Glinda laughed softly again. "Such spells can not be rushed. We would not want the storm to end half way to Oz, and have Dorothy falling out of the sky. Now ... would we?"

He leaned back uneasily against a large window overlooking Glinda's expansive rose garden - a garden that had inspired his own devotional love to roses and blooms. At the palace, he had his own four acre garden of roses, which he helped to care for as often as possible.

The sorceress had such immense power, but never flaunted such gifts in front of people. Most who had met her for the first time over the years had probably seen little more than a vain, gossipy socialite in the young-appearing woman. Even today, Glinda had been meticulous about her feminine appearance. Her hair was combed up into an elegant bun atop her head, without a single strand out of place. The silk gown she wore flowed to the floor in billowing layers, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a tight bodice. Such a bright, sunny yellow color was becoming on her.

It had to be said ... anyone who ever had the wrong impression about the sorceress and her wisdom or power rarely lasted for long in the royal court. Embarrassing someone as powerful as Glinda was never very wise, and although no one was ever hurt - except for their pride - it often ended in being ostracized from the grand society. Many often fled the city altogether in shame once Glinda had shown them exactly who and what she was capable of being or doing.

"Glinda ..." He said in a soft whisper, using her given name for the first time since coming to visit three days ago. He always tried to show her great respect, even though he was technically her king, and she his underling. He knew perfectly well that had the Wizard been fearful of someone magical being in charge of Oz, Glinda would be queen now, and he'd probably be a simple peasant. "Please ... make it so that Dorothy lands in your rose garden. I want her to arrive in some place undeniably beautiful."

She looked up once again from her book, watching him for a long moment before smiling. Briefly, he wondered how she could ever possibly become corrupted by her own sense of power. Yet even she, when the Wizard first left, had agreed that anything was possible when one had the political and magical power to become corrupted by it all.

"As you wish, Sire."

Two hours had passed, and Glinda stood in the rose garden with Robert, Vincent, and Nicholas standing behind her. A storm was coming in from overhead. It was an unusual storm that swirled with clouds of different, spectacular colors of the rainbow, and sparked with a brilliant purple lightening. Ths storm had no affect on any part of Oz as it moved. The trees it floated over remained still, swaying gently only when a warm breeze blew by. Robert could scarcely breath at the beauty of it. It seemed so peaceful.

"Dorothy is in that storm..." Vincent breathed, completely in awe of what Glinda had created to bring their long-lost friend home. "Is she awake? Will she be awake when this storm is all over?"

"No." Glinda said easily, her eyes concentrating on the storm. Both arms were extended up and outward, as though guiding the storm with all of her being to where she wanted it to be. "I thought perhaps it might be too frightening if she were to fly in that storm the entire way to Oz. Yet it will be easy enough to wake her, once she is out of it all."

Nicholas laughed softly behind her. He no longer squeaked or squealed with each movement, and his tin now shone as brightly as silver. Obviously, he had been polished as well as oiled by Glinda's servants. Robert envied him that it was so simple to make Nicholas look his very best. Vincent, of course, could groom himself and even dress in some tunics when he chose. Yet what could Robert do? Make sure his frame was completely stuffed full of fresh straw? Repaint the features on his face? He felt a little ridiculous.

Everyone but Glinda stepped back when the storm came down close, hovering several feet above the ground in the center of the rose garden. Even a couple of yards away, not one of them felt any downdrafts from the storm. They heard no thunder after the lightening sparked and sizzled in the multicolored clouds. Slowly, as Glinda began to murmur a chant softly to herself, a silhouette became visible from the clouds as they thinned and weakened. The lightening that continued to flash during brief intervals showed that her long golden hair was floating wildly about her, as though she was flying once again in the now legendary tornado. Yet her body was completely still, her arms laying in close against her body as though she were sleeping peacefully in a hammock. When the clouds continued to diminish, it could clearly be seen that she had changed before the storm picked her up to wisk her away. She wore a long periwinkle dress of soft wool that Robert had never seen before. Had she bought it when she knew that she'd be coming?

"Robert– someone!" Glinda said sternly, although her voice did not need to rise over the sound of the storm - since it was absolutely silent. "Take her out of the storm! Pluck her into your arms, or the storm may end and simply drop her right to the ground."

Robert looked at Glinda briefly. He knew he could not possibly be the one to pick Dorothy out of the storm. His straw frame might do well to catch her if she fell to the ground, yet if he tried to support her weight in his arms they would both tumble down. Looking to Vincent, he nodded his head quickly, and motioned him forward regretfully.

Vincent stepped forward quickly, his large arms reaching up to support Dorothy from underneath. Slowly the storm dissipated, her weight gently lowering itself into his supporting embrace until he could hold her more firmly against his chest. Robert and Vincent stepped forward to look at the sleeping woman in the great lions' arms as the storm completely vanished.

It was a long, quiet, and reverent moment. Memories overcame every last one of them as they looked into Dorothy's womanly face, and still managed to recognize the child they had all known so well. Memories of laughter, of tears, of terror ... all flooded each heart and mind so that it left them all quite breathless and speechless. Yet finally, as Glinda stepped forward to simply observe with a knowing smile, Vincent took in a deep breath.

"I remember ..." he whispered. "... I remember one day ... Dorothy was so exhausted but we hadn't found a safe place to rest for the night. I carried her just like this for three hours because her legs couldn't carry her any further."

"She looked so small in your arms back then." Nicholas whispered with a low chuckle, remembering that exact night as it had only ever happened just that once. They had been on the way to the castle of the Witch of the West, and it had been their longest journey up to that point.

"She still looks small." Robert noted quietly, his eyes fixed on the closed ones of the woman in his friend's supportive arms. Everyone was kneeling without realizing it.

"She doesn't weight nearly as little as she did back then." Vincent stated, laying her gently on the soft grass. The sun bathing her frame made her look lovely. Coming closer, Glinda reached out and laid her hand softly on Dorothy's forehead.

"You've slept long enough now." she breathed. "Wake now, Dorothy Gale. You are home."

It was a few moments after she pulled her hand away before Dorothy slowly opened her eyes. It took her a moment to focus her eyes, and she blinked rapidly due to the sunlight directly in her face. Yet finally, she saw Glinda over her, and stared in brief confusion.

"That's it." Vincent encouraged. "You're just fine."

Dorothy turned, her eyes widening when she saw him so close. She sat bolt upright abruptly with a laugh and grin, throwing both arms energetically around him. In that moment, it was as though twelve years had not gone by since they last saw her. In the body of a fully grown woman, she was briefly the child they had known.

"Lion!" she cried ecstatically. "Oh, Lion! I'm so happy to see you!"

Vincent laughed heartily, hugging her back against his chest tightly. They kissed each others cheeks eagerly, gleefully, saying soft words of joy and greeting.

"What about us?" Nicholas laughed from just over her shoulder. "NO such hello for your Tin man and Scarecrow?"

Dorothy turned with another delighted gasp, reaching out to hold him tightly as well. Her lips were peppering his cheeks and leaving ridiculous little marks against his newly-polished gleam.

"Oh, Tinny!" She cried. "Oh – oh, I'm so sorry ... I know you all have new names now. I should be using them... Nicholas."

"You aren't used to the names yet." he replied with a smile. "When you are ready, then you can call me Nick. No need for formalities between us."

"Although ... none of us would mind much if you used the terms you once knew us by."

Dorothy stood up slowly, which had everyone else around her doing the same. Robert reached out instinctively to place one hand under her nearest elbow and make sure she would not lose her balance. She turned to look up at him for the first time, her eyes huge and brilliant. Her hands seized his eagerly, crushing the soft and pliant hands inside their white gloves.

It was the only greeting he really needed, and neither of them spoke for a long time. They simply stared at one another, uncertain each of what to say now that they were no longer meeting in the realm of dreams.

"I was right." she finally admitted. "I missed all of you terribly ... but part of me really did miss you the most."

Smiling, he finally put one arm around her to hug her in comradery. The whole group laughed and chuckled before suddenly everyone was crowding Dorothy, hugging her tightly and clamoring excitedly about so many things that they all became dizzy.

Glinda had been right.

Dorothy was home.


	7. Chapter 7: A Start to a New Start

Chapter Seven: The Start to a New Start

Glinda followed the four friends back into her expansive home, smiling brightly and brilliantly the entire way. Dorothy had yet to truly greet her, but that was insignificant to her. After all, she'd played such a small role in her first visit to Oz, however vital it had been in the end. Once they had entered their home, she ordered a lunch made for Dorothy, Vincent, and herself. Plates and glasses, along with silverware, were set in the dining hall, including places for Nicholas and Robert although hey did not need food to sustain their lives. In fact, food would only damage them. Yet they always liked to sit at a dining table and play the part of a participant in the meal.

"You will need to rest tomorrow." she told Dorothy calmly at one point during the meal. "I've used magic on you, and its after-effects are not always pleasant. You may be fatigued, maybe even a smidgen ill. It's nothing to worry about really ... I am just not sure how you will react to it. Besides, there will be more magic today before you leave."

"More?" Dorothy asked softly, looking up from her soft conversation with Vincent, who sat to her right and kept clasping her hand with brief affection and laughter. "Glinda ... you've already done so much for me just by bringing me here. I can't ask for anything further."

"You most certainly can." Glinda stated firmly, but still smiling in a motherly fashion to the younger woman. She tilted her head slightly to one side, watching the girl a long moment. "Besides, you haven't thought of everything you'll need here for the next few days. One dress will hardly be enough for that, will it?"

Dorothy smiled a little sheepishly, thinking that Glinda was slightly teasing her for wearing only one dress to Oz without trying to carry any sort of luggage with her. Yet Glinda didn't simply drop the subject. The meal finished, and she took Dorothy by an arm around her shoulders, leading her upstairs into her own private chamber.

"You really will need at least a few dresses, my dear." she noted. "At least until you have the chance to go and find your own wardrobe. ...I want you to borrow from mine for the time being."

"Glinda!" Dorothy gasped, her eyes alighting at the prospect, even though she was more modest than Glinda when it came to how she dressed. Still, she supposed she'd get used to such gowns, after living in the palace for a while. "I could not possibly! You and I are hardly even the same size. You are so much taller than I am!"

"Ah, but that's why more magic will be necessary." she laughed quietly. "Go on, my dear. Please. Pick a couple of my gowns for yourself and try them on. Don't worry about how they fit. Magic will _make_ them fit."

An hour later, Dorothy had been fitted - due to Glinda's magic - into four beautiful gowns of silk and satin. One gown had been one of Glinda's oldest, so it had been faded in color and a little worn for wear. Yet Glinda had taken care of that with her magic too. Now, the gown looked as good as new, as though it'd never been worn even once before, and had even changed it to a brilliant sapphire blue at Dorothy's soft, rather timid request.

"I'll have these packed into a trunk by the time you leave, and it will go with you to the Emerald City." Glinda promised softly. "Your friends are probably getting impatient downstairs. Go to them now ... you and I will have plenty of time to learn about one another in the future. I can wait."

It was not long before the foursome said there goodbyes to Glinda, and made there way onto the covered carraige that would carry them all back to the Emerald City. It would be at least a two hour long ride, and they spent the entire journey chatting about the past twelve years. They shared stories of events that one, or the other, would have been otherwise unaware of. They even shared some of their fondest memories from the first time Dorothy ever came to Oz. It was a long ride, but not nearly long enough for them to fill in all of the blanks that were missing in their lives.

"I have a wonderful idea!" Dorothy suddenly exclaimed, when she realized how busy her three friends were going to be once back at the palace. "Why don't I spend at least one whole day with each of you? One day for each person. An entire day for me to learn about each of you separately. Surely that will be enough to get us more closely acquainted."

"It will at least be a start." Nicholas admitted with a smile. "I think it's a splendid idea." He looked to the others, who both nodded eagerly at Dorothy's charming idea. They all looked forward to having time alone with Dorothy. Things could get noisy when the four of them had to share time together when there was so much to learn or re-learn about one another.

"Then, after you rest tomorrow, we'll figure out who will have the first day with you." Vincent said quietly. "I think I'd like to have that day, though."

They all laughed, and a few moments later the carraige pulled to a stop at the front of the giant emerald palace at the center of the Emerald City. Dorothy stepped out with the group of men who she had decided during the journey to refer to as "her boys", and smiled when her single trunk was unloaded. Robert ordered a footman to bring it to a specific suite in the palace, and the man rushed off to obey.

"That suite, Robert?" Nicholas asked skeptically. "That is barely even a guest suite. Don't you think that she deserves a nicer room?"

"Oh, don't worry about it." Dorothy inserted at once, her own modesty from a life of poor living kicking in. "I am sure a single room will suit my purposes just fine. I don't want anything special."

"Nevertheless..." Vincent said with quiet sternness. "You will have a better room. We'll all see to it as soon as we can, won't we guys?"

"Of course." Robert said quickly, looking slightly ashamed of himself that he'd not thought ahead to Dorothy's living arrangements. "You truly do deserve a better room than that suite, Dorothy. It's more than you're used to, I'm sure ... but you are all but royalty to the people in Oz. We all would feel better if you let us take care of you just that much for now."

Blushing, Dorothy finally shrugged, and let the threesome lead her to her room. Her room, as it turned out, was a whole suite of rooms that included a bathing chamber, a bedroom, a sitting room, and a dressing room with walk-in closets. The whole floor plan to the single suite was larger than her entire farm house had been. And they wanted to give her something bigger and better! She could scarcely believe it ... but felt much too ungrateful to their love and generosity to turn down their eager attempts to make her feel so accepted and wanted.

It was hard for her to sleep that night, from all of the excitement she felt churning through her entire body. She simply could not wait until the following day, in spite of knowing that her three friends would all be rather busy with matters of state and the like.


	8. Chapter 8: A New Lifestyle Maybe!

A/N: All right, people. I should have mentioned this before, but I hadn't thought I'd wind up using it so much. For future reference, I will be using bits and pieces of things from Maguire's _Wicked_. I don 't plan on using any of the big plot line ... but I will be using smaller references. You might have noticed Glinda's wardrobe and style ... that was taken mildly from the book. I will also be using things like the difference between Animals and animals. For those of you who haven't read the books, Animals are people like Lion – those who "have souls" and can speak and have minds. animals without the big A are animals like Toto ... just animals that can't talk and have smaller intellects. I just wanted to make that clear before I continued on with my story. Thanks for the reviews, guys.

I may rewrite this chapter because I can't quite figure out how to write it. Any opinions or advice would be welcome.

**Chapter Eight: A New Lifestyle – Maybe**

He following morning, Dorothy awoke to the sound of someone in her suite. She rolled onto her back in a giant bed larger than the one her Aunt and Uncle had shared together in their many years of marital bliss. She was reasonably certain that three or four married couples could have slept on that mattress comfortably. Not to mention it was more comfortable by far, as well.

It had been after dark by the time she'd reached the palace with her three gentlemen the evening before. Many of the rooms and corridors had been lit only enough for someone to make their way through without running into walls or obstacles. Even her room had been lit dimly, although one or two lamps had been brightened so she could see the expansive nature of her rooms. Today, she could see everything. She just sat up in bed for a long moment, looking at a bedroom that was surely twice as big as the large parlor in her farm house back in Kansas.

_Stop doing that._ She thought to herself fiercely. _It was never really yours. It was your Aunt and Uncle's home, and even then it was owned by the bank. Stop thinking about it. Stop comparing. That place can't be important anymore._

A small sound from outside the bedroom door caught her attention yet again. Whoever had come in and accidentally awakened her was now in the sitting room. There was the sound of objects being moved around, although all sounded like small objects.

"Hello?" She called out, reching for a pale green robe that had been left out for her by Nicholas when the men had all showed her the room the night before. She had no idea where the dressing gown had come from, but had asked no questions. For men who'd had no idea Dorothy would be coming to the palace with them before they ever left it, they certainly had plenty of sources to get what they needed or wanted immediately.

There was a slight clank outside, which made Dorothy laugh quietly to herself. Standing from the bed, she made her way across a plush, pale rose-colored carpet. She reached for the door handle and peered outside as the door opened without a single sound to betray her entrance. Still, the eyes of the person in the sitting room rose at once to meet hers.

It was a young woman with long, bright copper colored hair that was pulled back into a strict braid. Not a single strand of hair was out of place, and a small white cap covered the crown of her head professionally. She had to be a maid, considering the ankle length black skirt and matching blouse. Jade green eyes stared at Dorothy with embarrassment before she dropped into a low curtsey.

"Miss ..." She breathed, obviously flustered. "I didn't mean to wake you! I was given direct orders to let you sleep ... but I wanted to make sure everything out here would be settled when you woke. I was ordered to make sure I didn't disturb your rest, Miss. I'm so sorry."

Dorothy raised a hand to calm her, the other clutching the edges of her robe close together. She was smiling now, even though she was still waking up just a little bit.

"Please, don't worry about it." She assured softly. "Whoever gave you those orders was just trying to take advice from Lady Glinda seriously. They won't find out you woke me up. I'll tell everyone I was coming out of the bath when you came in."

They watched each other a moment, and then the girl finally broke into a soft, nervous laugh. Her body stance relaxed instantly and she turned to pick up a small doily which could have been dropped when Dorothy startled her by her voice or appearance. It was arranged on a small and low oval table sitting between a large sofa and two wing-backed chairs. When that quick act was done, she turned and gave another quick curtsey to Dorothy.

"His Majesty has assigned me to be your personal maid, Miss." the girl announced softly. "My name is Tamara ... and I have no other duties now except to take care of your suite and your needs."

Dorothy blinked, her eyes going wide.

"A personal maid?" She echoed softly. "Oh, but that isn't necessary! I am capable of taking care of myself. I mean ... I know they want a maid for my rooms but ... I surely don't need a private maid completely!"

Tamara smiled just a little, finding amusement not so much in Dorothy's modesty, but in the way she was surprised at this arrangement. She had been in the palace long enough to know that when the three co-rulers of Oz wanted to take care of their friends, they did so thoroughly and quickly.

"Nevertheless, Miss, I do have my duties." she stated. "You can always order me to go away whenever I get on your nerves. ...Sometimes I have even been asked to keep company with some of my employers. Mostly older ladies who have nothing better to do than sit by a fireplace and be read to but don't have the companions to do it for them."

Again, Dorothy smiled, finally relaxing completely now that the maid seemed to have no problem opening up to her. Being assigned a personal maid had taken her off guard, and made her momentarily uncertain about just how stuffy the palace life might end up being for her. Yet even though servants were always explicitly polite and obedient, this particular maid showed that she could also be quite personal and agreeable. Dorothy liked that. If she were going to be served, she was glad to be served by someone she could actually talk to.

"Well, I have been given orders by Lady Glinda to stay in my suites and take it easy today." she decided. "Maybe you could have breakfast brought up for me, and we can plan some easy events to share in here? Do you like to embroider? I was thinking maybe I could do that today. Or even start on a quilt."

Tamara smiled, laughing at these suggestions. Dorothy was not joking about her ideas, but she knew they sounded silly and was being mildly sarcastic about them. She turned to enter the bathing chamber, and Dorothy could hear water running. She followed the girl to find a giant sunken marble tub filling with warm bubble and sweet smelling bubbles.

"Lilac bubbles?" she asked with astonishment as Tamara stood from a kneeling position besides the bath. "I've never heard of that scent in bath bubbles before. Where I come from, suds are hard enough to find. Never mind scented bubbles."

Tamara grinned.

"You like lilacs?" She asked knowingly. "Someone must have done their research. I just brought all these things in this morning before I accidentally woke you."

After a luxurious long bath during which Dorothy nearly fell asleep again, she went into a smallish dressing room in which her limited wardrobe was now hanging up. Apparently, Tamara had also unpacked her trunk. The maid helped her go get dressed in a lavish silk gown that was a deep, blood-shaded crimson.

The rest of the day, Dorothy was relieved now to have a private maid all to herself. She knew that her three friends would often be much too busy to spend a great deal of time with her. Until she made more friends in Oz, it would be nice to have another young woman to talk to. Tamara was only two years older than Dorothy, and it was easy to speak to someone so close to her age. Their lives had both been hard, yet Tamara had served as a maid for years - since she was fifteen years old - to send to her parents that were ill and out of work. It had been long arduous work, but never too difficult or unpleasant. The woman shuddered at times when Dorothy explained her own life in Kansas, even though such lives existed in almost every county in Oz. The only difference was that homes were rarely taken away by banks or other such financial powers.

Dorothy had made her fist female friend, and she had learned quite quickly that she was in an entirely new lifestyle. For once she had the freedom to sit at a piano and tinker out tunes she'd lurned through the course of her life in her Aunt's sitting room. She could study embroidery and sewing for hours without interruption, or read a book either to herself or aloud to Tamara. Even without having spent a whole day in Oz, she knew that her life was forever changed ... but she could not ever give up her whole life completely. Her friends were going to just have to accept that she was independant, and Tamara would be more a companion than a servant.


	9. Chapter 9: Vincent's Day

A/N: All right, an enormous length of time has passed since last I posted. Well … I wrote the next three chapters -- four times apiece. Well … I hope I can get it right this time. I keep getting writers block, or just flat out being unimpressed with my own writings. Hope you like it all. BTW, it looks like I might be borrowing from "Wicked" a heck of a lot more, but I'm not trying to make distinctly direct references to events in that book. Merely similar facts such as the difference between Animals and animals, Glinda's personality … and … maybe … some of the Gale Force. Haven't decided yet.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Chapter Nine: Animals and animals

The sound of metal on metal, as well as heavy material being maneuvered, woke Dorothy only an instant or two before the piercing light of day shone through her eyelids, causing her to see that searing red one can see when their eyes are shut. She moaned, wincing even though she hadn't even opened her eyes yet, and rolled over hard to face the opposite direction. It would be a few moments before she'd dare to open her eyes now.

"Miss Dorothy… You told me to wake you up at six-thirty … I'm just the tiniest bit late and I'm sorry. It's quarter until seven."

Dorothy groaned again, sitting up and rubbing her eyes before opening them finally. She blinked rapidly to focus in the amazing brightness of day. Her gaze settled on Tamara, who had left briefly and was now rolling in a cart of breakfast foods from the kitchens for her to pick from. The sound of running water could be heard coming from her bath chamber.

"Why is it so bright?" She asked her friend and maidservant groggily. She'd slept so soundly in her bed the night before, that she almost felt overslept, the same as it felt to be overtired and far from ready to get out of bed at any time close to what it presently was. Quarter until seven … on the day she was to spend with Vincent.

"Oh, the fog." Tamara laughed softly, waving one hand dismissively. "It will burn off in no time. Can you believe how much the light disperses through it? It must feel at least six times brighter than any normal morning."

"Especially when it's that light that you first are really aware of in the morning." Dorothy smiled, even though her voice sounded mildly bitter about hoe she'd been awakened. She pushed the coverlets and sheets off of her body and stood, smoothing down the soft pink silk nightgown that draped her body. She'd never felt anything so luxurious on her skin before in her entire lifetime.

Her eyes turned to the drapes that Tamara had drawn, noticing there were still light and airy gauze curtains that fell over what at first seemed to be a window. All the day before those curtains had never been drawn - probably because she had wakened without help orders to be awakened. Now she noticed the windows … and that they weren't even windows.

"What's this?" She moved towards them, stretching her arms above her head with a hard long yawn, closing her eyes since it was obvious no obstacle would make her fall. "Doors?"

"The balcony." Tamara replied simply, softly. "I thought you'd seen it already. Tea or coffee?" She lifted the small china tea kettle, already knowing that Dorothy was fonder of tea than coffee, but not wanting to appear so know-it-all on just the second day as her mistresses maid.

"Tea will be fine, Tammy." Dorothy smiled at her broadly, finally beginning to wake up fully. "I didn't have a clue that this was here."

She reached out to push back one of the gauze curtains to reveal the gilded handles that would allow her access to the outside balcony. Dew seemed to drench everything, and the fog was thick enough that even at this height, the thick marble balustrades were veiled by the mist, if only thinly. Still, with the sunlight so bright through the fog, she could clearly tell that the balcony and balustrades were all made of a charming coral or pale rose marble.

"It isn't much of a view just now." she noted with a chuckle. Her eyes roved the balcony, examining two potted plants that sat in either front corner of it. Just now, it was only covered in deep green leaves that were absolutely precious and small, but as of the moment no flowers. When she looked closer, she realized there were dozens, maybe hundreds if she was lucky, of buds on the branches.

"Oh, it will be well more than visible by the time you finish your breakfast." Tamara stated softly. "These fogs always burn off quickly. Maybe you'd even like to eat out there this morning… excuse me miss, I need to check on your bath."

Dorothy nodded absently, having no desire to give Tamara orders or permission to do absolutely anything. Her maid might have a duty to her, but she was her own woman and would never be forced to do a single thing.

She continued to peer at her balcony, noting a small table where she could eat or take tea, surrounded by three matching wrought iron chairs that were all painted a jade green. Peculiar to her, but beautiful never-the-less. She turned to pick up the robe she'd draped over the foot of the bed the night before, and put her arms in through the sleeves, cinching it about the waist before opening the door. The air was crisp and made gooseflesh raise up on her arms and calves, but nothing severe. When she stepped out onto her balcony for the first time, her bare feet became icy and wet with dew, but she had endured far worse before.

Tamara was certainly right about the fog. Already as she stepped outside, she could almost feel it dissipating around her. Already the fog was burning away so that it was gently and slowly clearing from around the property beneath her, three stories below. At first she could only tell that it was a massive garden full of variously sized plants. Yet even as the sun rose higher and higher, and the yellow-orange sky above began to bleed slowly to blue, she could see more colors than ever in her entire life - including her last visit to Oz.

"Roses…" she breathed in awe, even though the plants were not fully visible yet. The highest branches of the tallest plants, as well as lattices of every shape and height that held up flower vines, were quite visible to her. Some of the plants, and lattices, were almost two stories tall, and more than obviously roses to her.

They were of every size, every possible shape, and more colors than she'd ever known existed. Violet, lavender, turquoise, shamrock green, royal blue, periwinkle, pink, salmon, white, yellow, scarlet … it was more than amazing to her. She knew roses were difficult to care for, as her tiny town had had it's own community rose garden in the town square, and it was difficult to get any one plant to bloom, never mind so many as the ones laying below her.

"Someone loves these plants…" she mused quietly with wonder. It was so beautiful even in the fog and at this distance that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Still … she shook herself briefly and turned back to her bedroom reluctantly. She had to get ready for her day with Vincent. He'd warned her to be ready for a long day full of activity, and she wanted to be sure that she would be just that.

As the door closed behind her, the fog dissipated just the tiniest bit more, allowing a man-sized figure to be seen wandering along the paths in the rose garden. Occasionally it bent over to touch or examine plants, and the figure was obviously engrossed in it's task. It had not seen Dorothy any better than she had seen it, and had been completely unaware that for a few moments, it had almost had company.

Inside, Dorothy ate a few bites of a delicious apple danish, and drank her tea in eager sips as Tamara finished taking care of her morning bath, following the maid into the dressing room to pick out what to wear for that day. It was her first real day to explore the Emerald City, and she knew Vincent intended to take her out into it because he'd stopped in later afternoon the day before to speak to her about it. He also claimed to have a surprise or two for her, so she was not entirely certain what to wear. Eventually she picked out a pretty satin dress that had all the accessories and shoes, even a lovely wide-brimmed hat, that Tamara assured her was more than acceptable garb for going 'out on the town' for the day.

When they finished picking out her outfit, Dorothy finished her extremely light breakfast off with a small blueberry muffin, and then walked leisurely into her bathing chamber, already luxuriating in the smell of the lilac bathwater.

Maybe living in the palace wouldn't be so hard to get used to, after all. At least not for a while. Not after all the years she'd spent giving her sweat tears and blood to her Aunt and Uncle's farm.

-- -- -- --

The city was more than Dorothy could have ever remembered it being. Although spectacular to the eyes of a child, Dorothy could now appreciate the whole of the city as an adult. The architecture of all buildings - even quaint little boutiques' and cafes - was absolutely stunning to her. Many areas of the city had little squares in which vendors and merchants sold their goods out of little wagons and carts that displayed its' merchandise so well that she could clearly see everything from the open-aired carriage she rode in with Vincent sitting beside her.

"I never realized that Oz had so many animals like you, Vincent." she noted softly, smiling with the sheer glee of seeing a Giraffe next to a seven-story building. It was barking out to the surrounding crowds of customers it's fresh supply of produce. It didn't pass her that most of the produce were large leafy vegetables and also obviously foliage from some of the tall trees in Oz. Obviously this creature would have a much easier time cropping from taller plants, especially if it worked all by itself.

"Oh, there didn't used to be so many out in public." Vincent replied softly, a touch of gloom or bitterness to his voice. She wasn't really quite sure. "We haven't always been welcome here. And it's not just animals, Dorothy. It's _Animals_. Creatures like your precious little Toto … the ones that can't talk or have no real intellect … they are simply animals. Those of us who can talk and rationalize, who can think and work and often walk on only two feet like humans … we're Animals."

"Oh." Dorothy blushed a little, watching the Giraffe until the carriage turned around a corner onto another street, this one filled with expensive seamstresses and dress shops. Ladies bustled around everywhere, many followed by maids and servants carrying their goods. "I hope I didn't offend you." "Offense only comes from those who already know better. The ones who chose to be ignorant." he laughed then, and shifted as the carriage pulled to the side of the street. "There's no way you could have possibly known the difference. You weren't exactly here on vacation last time you visited Oz. Ah - Here we are."

Dorothy looked up at the shop they stood in front of as he helped her down to the sidewalk, her red skirts almost bushing the ground and mostly hiding her feet. Before her stood a giant store that was three stories tall and took up half of the street in width. It was bustling with activity through the windows, and she realized that this was a clothing store for wealthy women, and it also sold every last accessory any woman would ever need in her entire lifetime.

"Lucifina's Clothes for the Elegant?" She lifted an eyebrow doubtfully, looking over to Vincent with questions burning in her eyes that she was almost afraid to speak aloud. "What in the world are we doing at a place like this?"

"Well … are you thinking about being our Princess, or aren't you?" he asked in a low voice, avoiding that anyone might overhear him. He did not want to draw attention to Dorothy before she was ready to be recognized as the girl who had killed the two Wicked Witches of Oz. That might never happen, after all, and if it was what she wished he would have to be certain she remained anonymous. "If you're even entertaining the thought, don't you think you deserve a wardrobe worthy of the title?"

She felt the blood drain from her face, her hands shaking just slightly at the thought of going into the store full of the richest women in Emerald City She could make a drastic mistake here, couldn't she? She felt so gawky and awkward compared to the women she saw through the windows, shopping without even glancing up at the sellers assisting them.

"It's all right." Vincent said soothingly, placing a large paw over her shoulder gently. She could feel the razor sharp claws barely exposed pressing against her collar bone, doing no harm and causing no pain. Yet she knew what those claws were capable of. He'd protected her and her friends more than once when she was just a girl. "I've already made an appointment here. You won't have to shop out in the open if you don't want to. You're VIP today, Dorothy." He laughed gently, urging her forwards and sweeping open one of the large glass doors for her. She only noticed then that the doors were tinted green - as much of the city was.

"VIP?" She knew what that stood for, but still looked at him doubtfully again. "What do you mean?" "You'll have a private room to shop in." He explained. "I know the woman who will be helping you. And, Dorothy …" He leaned in, whispering softly into her ear as he spoke her name. "Don't stop buying until you have everything you could ever want. I won't take no for an answer."

She looked at him more sharply than earlier, wanting to automatically object. She realized now that he fully intended to use his own money just to spoil her rotten with a new wardrobe. Then again … she had no money of her own, now did she? She rationalized that unless she got a job of her own somewhere in the city, she would never truly have her very own money. The thought stung her, but not as deeply as she would have expected it to. Was living in the palace changing her already? She hoped it wasn't for the worst.

"All right." she allowed softly, allowing him to maneuver her through the store and around the rich ladies doing their shopping. Everyone moved aside slightly as they passed, many nodding, even bowing and curtseying, acknowledging Vincent as one of their three great rulers. One of their three kings.

"My Lord, Vincent!" a voice as silky as cream came from a few yards away, and Dorothy turned to see who was approaching. Her eyes widened at once to see a _Cougar, _walking towards them on her two back feet, paws extended happily and perhaps a little eagerly to grasp Vincent's paws as he extended his to her in return. She curtsied briefly, but informally, and he was smiling with obvious affection as he leaned in and pressed a simple little kiss to her temple. Anyone nearby who watched the exchange showed no surprise, especially not this Cougar's sales associates. She was wearing a deep green dress close to the shade of pine, with softly pinkish pearls adorning it in elegant design.

"Miss Jazlyn." Vincent said fondly. "You look lovely, as normal. It's wonderful to see you." Turning, he acknowledged Dorothy silently. "Your customer for today, my dear. Today should prove fun for you both."

Dorothy nodded, bobbing the slightest curtsey.

"Good morning." she greeted quietly. "Nice to meet you." She clasped her hands at waist level, wringing them a little bit nervously. She was watching Vincent and this Jazlyn woman together carefully, realizing that they just might be together in some romantic manner that was yet only mildly obvious. Then again, she could be utterly wrong, and they just might be friends or completely professional.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you, Miss." Jazlyn replied with a broad, toothy smile. "Vincent says you need a new wardrobe … and he's footing the bill, so we're not to worry about price or quantity. So, let's get you upstairs, and I'll show you everything we have until you just can't shop anymore!"

Dorothy laughed, excitement slowly seeping in, in spite of herself. Jazlyn's excitement may have been forced or pretended to some extent, she wasn't certain, but it was still contagious, and it made her feel more at ease in this place. They walked quietly as a small group to a far wall in the store, passing racks of every possible type of shoe, glass counters that displayed jewelry for any occasion and style, racks of dresses and horse riding outfits. There were also nightgowns and lingerie, boots, coats, muffs, gloves, scarves, perfumes, and every other thing a woman of high society could ever need to get by out in the world. She was absolutely amazed.

At the far wall was a lift, run by a middle-aged man in a simple dress shirt, slacks, and shoes that looked spit-shined. When they had all gathered inside, the lift slowly rose, starting off with an alarming shudder that made Dorothy stiffen enough so that Vincent obviously felt he needed to take her hand. She'd never been in a building tall enough or fancy enough to need a lift, and smiled with embarrassment at how shaken she was for the few moments they were enclosed in the slight space. Needless to say, she was much relieved by the time they arrived on the third floor, and filed out one-bye-one, Vincent taking up the rear. The lift made another shuddering noise as it started back down to the ground floor once more.

Jazlyn led the group down a wide hallway that was interrupted by pairs of double doors on either side of them every few yards. The walls were of a deep plumb color, with a crème colored, plush carpet beneath their feet, and mirrors lining the walls on either side of them. Dorothy had never seen a hallway quite like it before. It was obvious as Jazlyn pulled a key from some hidden place on her person, that she was taking them to a door on the far end of the hallway that faced them.

"This is our largest dressing room." the Cougar said over her shoulder with a charming smile, even though it made her canine teeth more visible. "I hope it will be comfortable for you. We can spend all day up here, if you want to. Now, I don't want you to feel at all pressured or rushed into buying anything. Look at every style, every color, every accessory, until you're happy with what you're picking out, all right? I don't like sending away unsatisfied customers."

"I don't think that will be a problem today, Jazlyn." Vincent said with an absolutely brilliant grin. "You'll find her very easy to please, I think. At least until she figures out she actually likes being spoiled rotten."

"Vincent!" Dorothy blushed, turning to look at him in mortification as Jazlyn unlocked the far door, and opened it to allow them into a room that looked like a small parlor. "Please… I …"

"Dorothy, _all_ women like to be spoiled, if only a little." he continued teasing, but more gently now. He opened one arm and motioned towards a divan against one far wall. There were mirrors everywhere, as well as a pedestal that she could only assume she might stand on to try outfits on for herself.

"First we need to get your measurements…" Jazlyn said, having pretended not to even hear Vincent's exchange with Dorothy. She had to be professional now, even if the customer was a very good friend, of a very good friend. She had gone over to a small shelf full of the tools any seamstress would need for an initial meeting with a client, and rolled some of it out with a little practiced flourish. "Shall we?"

-- -- -- --

The shopping had taken nearly five hours, as Vincent had kept insisting that what clothes she picked might be lovely and perfectly acceptable for living in the palace, yet it seemed no matter how many dresses she bought, there was never enough. Personally, Dorothy thought that she wouldn't be able to wear the wardrobe she was building up in her entire lifetime, even if she wore one outfit a day until the day she died. Yet the clothes kept piling up, and what more could she do than trust he knew what he was talking about, and take his word for it?

Then of course, there were the accessories! Jazlyn kept bringing in shoes, boots, pantaloons corsets, combs, hats, purses, parasols, perfumes, brushes, ribbons, scarves, gloves, muffs, and more things that she couldn't even remember the name of. It was exhausting work, just sitting in one chair all day unless it was necessary to actually try something on, and look at clothes all morning. It surprised her to no end how hungry and tired she felt by the time everything was finally bought and paid for, and Vincent asked Jazlyn to arrange it so that all the new purchases would be delivered to the palace by the end of the day! Of course, not everything could be delivered immediately. In all actuality, many of the dresses had to be cut from new patters, and sewn to fit Dorothy's measurements and preference for material or color. Still … all the things that could be delivered, would be at her suite in the palace by that night.

When she was alone again with Vincent in the carriage, she leaned back with a sigh of weariness and relief, closing her eyes to block out the little laugh her companion gave out at her expression.

"What's wrong, Dorothy?" he asked teasingly. "All the hard work was done by Jazlyn, you know. Are you certain you ran a farm for three years?"

Dorothy's eyes snapped open, and she looked at him with wide eyes full of indignation and hurt pride. Then, she realized he really was only trying to teas her, and sighed again, once more slumping back into her seat even more. He didn't mean to suggest she hadn't run her guardians farm all on her own with only a few farmhands to help. He was only surprised that a mere shopping spree could make her feel tired.

"I'll bet you're starving, too." he added after a moment as they rocked gently along the busy city streets. "Don't worry, lunch is next on the agenda anyways. I fully expected the shopping to take longer than this, actually. I hadn't expected you to be so placating. When someone's spoiling you rotten, you might as well be a little more picky about what you're being given."

Dorothy chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"Tell me about Jazlyn." she entreated quietly. "She seems like a close friend of yours."

There was a brief silence, and when Dorothy looked up, she saw that Vincent was actually blushing under all that fur.

"Jazlyn is more than just a friend to me." he conceded softly. "I've been seeing her for nearly a year and a half now. We're both active in trying to help more Animals lead better lives, like other humans and races of their species do. In fact, I met her at the first event that Animals ever had the chance to hold for themselves. It was a gala - a charity ball - so that Animal children living in more discriminating communities than the Emerald City can be given an education in their own schools."

"Discriminating?" Dorothy shook her head. "I didn't think Oz would have something like that. I've never seen anyone hate - or be hated - because of what they are. Who they are, or how they behave, sure, but … being Animals? Something they can't help?"

"There is plenty of discrimination in Oz." Vincent said unhappily. "Not just against Animals. It's not as obvious or as horrible as I've heard it can be where you come from … but it happens. There are people who don't think we deserve jobs or educations. Positions of importance in society for Animals are very rare … so can you imagine how miraculous it is for me to be one of the three main rulers in Oz?"

"I suppose so." Dorothy admitted. "That's what you do, then? You and Jazlyn? You … help Animals to become all these things that aren't so easy for them to get or be?"

"That just about says it." He smiled quietly, turning to look over the sidewalk passing by on his side. "As a matter of fact … in two days, Nicholas, Robert, and I, are all going to a University graduation in the morning. With the help of others, I've been able to make certain Animals are allowed into all branches of education, and the first Animal ever will be getting it's diploma. An Elephant named Ssvar … he's going to be a professor of politics."

"How apt." Dorothy couldn't help but laugh, and after a moment, Vincent laughed as well.

"I suppose it is at least mildly ironic." He admitted. Then, after a pause, he took a silent breath. "Well … not really, actually. If you were the first Animal to go to a University … wouldn't you want to learn the skills to make things better for your kind? That way you could put them to use, or teach others the same ideas so that you could change the way the world went … one student at a time if necessary?"

"I suppose I would." Dorothy conceded, watching as the carriage started to pull to the side of the road once more.

They pulled to a stop, and Vincent quickly stepped down from their transport, holding up a large pawed hand to help her down as he had before, when they'd arrived at the women's store. She climbed down rather delicately, feeling more like a lady now than she ever had in her entire life, even though she'd been wearing luxurious clothes for the past three days, and being waited on hand and foot by personal servants. Somehow, her friend - and no doubt it would be the same with her other two friends - made her feel as though she truly deserved this treatment. Deserved to feel like a Lady.

They stood in front of a large café that was clearly meant to serve just about anyone's pallet. There were Animals … people dressed as richly as nobility … men and women in clothes from the poorer walks in life. She could smell teas, coffees, cocoas, pastries, and among other thing hot savory meals. There were people drinking the poorest ales, to the finest and most expensive champagnes.

"This place looks lovely." she noted quietly, not certain whether she should feel overwhelmed or not. She had almost expected a fine restaurant that you could only eat in with an invitation. A place where even the invitations were almost impossible to come by, not only because of how far in advance you'd have to book a table, but also by the lofty prices of it's menu. This place looked as though it could be both rustic and extravagant.

"A pleasure to receive His Lordship again…" said an Asp, approaching them on her slithering scaled body, picking up a pair of menus at the front podium with her tail. "And a fine lady with you as well. How lovely. We don't normally see you in here without Miss Jazlyn."

"Miss Jazlyn had to work, Selena." Vincent replied calmly, being friendly but impersonal with the hostess at the same time. Dorothy noticed then that although he was being addressed informally, this Asp perhaps wasn't interesting to him. Maybe they were too eager or nosy, but at least she was starting to notice the patterns in his behavior. "The Lady is a guest of the palace."

"Ah." Selene responded with a fang-toothed grin, but when no smile was returned, it went away into the commonly evil glare most snaked Dorothy had ever seen seemed to have. The Asp turned it's back on the two patrons, and led them to their seats. Once they were comfortable and had been left alone, Vincent shook his head at the retreating tail of the hostess.

"Even Animals have their busybodies and gossips." he told her in a low murmur. "By the way … she can't hear a blessed word anyone says, just like any snake. But she reads lips so … should be careful about what we choose to say."

Dorothy laughed a little, glancing at the gossiping Asp as she seated yet another set of customers.

"You know … if I hadn't been a friend of _the_ Dorothy Gale so that The Wizard noticed me like he did Nicholas and Robert, Animals may have never had an ambassador. We'd all still be struggling harder than humanoids."

Vincent nodded insistently when Dorothy opened her mouth to object. She didn't believe for one instant that she could be the cause of such joy and freedom. Yet he motioned quickly to the area around them, signaling that they were not alone. Revealing her identity here would create nothing but chaos. Still, she might have objected … had a waiter not approached at that moment. By the time lunch had been ordered, she'd completely forgotten about her objection to Vincent's ridiculous seeming reasoning.

"Do you really feel so tired?" he asked, accepting a glass of wine as their waiter brought their drinks. "I had hoped to bring you to the Royal Theater this afternoon for a matinee performance."

"The theater?" Dorothy echoed excitedly. "I've never been to a show before!"

Vincent smiled broadly at her enthusiasm.

"Well, then this should be an experience for you." he mused aloud. "It's a play about us. The four of us, I mean. In particular about … Dorothy the Wicked Witch Slayer."

Her horrified look made him burst out laughing.

"What do you expect? It was written by people who have idealized those times. Who have no idea what really happened."

She continued to stare at him, but the horror had left her features. Finally, she just nodded in acceptance, taking a sip of the orange and mango juice she'd been brought.

-- -- -- -- -- --

"Good God!" Dorothy exclaimed as they left the theater early that evening. Already, their carriage was awaiting in front of the great building. The crowd around them parted, bowing and scraping to acknowledge Vincent as he passed by. "They won't really expect someone like _that_, will they? I mean … do they really think I'm some sort of ridiculous sorceress savior? I was only a scared little girl from Kansas!"

"Shee, unless you want everyone here to know who you are." Vincent warned gently in a low whisper. "I told you, it's an _idealized_ concept of what happened. It isn't factual. No one ever consulted us on what truly occurred."

The ride back to the palace was quiet. Dorothy kept thinking about all the things that had been impacted by her first visit to Oz. It seemed ridiculous that a simple little girl was now some legend and heroine. In the play, she'd been portrayed by a girl of at least sixteen years old, who played a powerful, stubborn, yet somehow utterly charming character. There had been a strange seductiveness in that charm.

What would Oz think of the woman she truly was? Did they think she was going to be a beautiful siren capable of - perhaps - more than even Glinda?

A series of accidents had made her a hero. Could she ever face Oz as she truly was?

Looking across at Vincent, she was glad that at least four people in Oz cared about the true Dorothy Gale. Vincent, Nicholas, Robert, and Glinda, all cared about her. They loved her for the person she truly was. Why else would they have brought her back to be with them in the first place?


End file.
